Cutting down


I think we’ve gone beyond Peak Baby Paraphernalia and now we’re gradually reducing the amount of stuff we have to carry with us while travelling. Destroyer refuses to sleep in the travel cot we bought at great expense, so that got sold to somebody else in Singapore and we freed up half of a suitcase because we’re not carrying it any more. In the short term, these gaps get filled with spare nappies (“diaper, Daddy, it’s a diaper, not a nappy” as La Serpiente would say) and pouches of pre-chewed food for Destroyer to dine on – in another couple of years we’ll have drastically reduced our payload requirement for nappies, and we can take more fun stuff.

In fact it must already be working, because I’ve managed to sneak through not one but two pairs of sports shoes (running and cycling) as well as a few pairs of shorts. We’re still carrying three fairly enormous suitcases, plus a double stroller to transport the children in, plus a car seat, plus a bright pink Trunki, a blue roll-on and two backpacks that exactly match the maximum dimensions for cabin baggage (and probably woefully exceed the weight limits) but it’s a start. (I’m also flying with two laptops on this trip, because I’m giving one away when I get to London on the way back from Halifax, and I just love putting extra stuff through the X-ray machines.)

Boarding was pretty simple at Changi, but then it always is. Seating: not so wonderful. This is where Delta’s approach – make no concessions to parents unless they damn well pay for the seats they want would actually be more helpful than BA’s enlightened let-the-parents-of-young-children-pick-their-seats-for-free philosophy. You see, I can place my wife in a bulkhead seat with Destroyer in her arms, and La Serpiente next to her, but since we aren’t equipped with two infants I’m not entitled to sit next to them, so I’m relegated to a seat in the row behind the rest of the family, which is obviously totes relaxing for me, but much less so for the parent left dealing with the two kids for the entire flight. But it’s only twelve hours to London, so how hard can it be for my wife?

(well, that remains to be seen…)

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